The past weeks have been hectic. One did not have time to think, to hurt, to feel angry, to rant and rave, to question, to cry. A tidal wave swept upon us when results of a scanner came, and then it was a slew of other investigations, visits to doctors, waiting in queues, battling with uncaring hospital administrations, waiting for results, understanding the results, comprehending the options and realising one had none, or at best few. Then the devastating responsibility of taking a decision you know is right but you have avoided all along, desperately looking for some alternatives your heart wants to find but your exhausted mind knows do not exist. Pouring over the net hope in your heart while you peep at the options you so want to avoid because you are aware of the consequences. As someone said: your lives will change the day you cross the line. The line here is the first step to what is know as cancer management. You are told the 'protocol': a boner marrow biopsy and then chemotherapy. You know that once you are in the loop there is no coming back.
The decision has been taken, barring a miracle I know will not happen. Even the Gods cannot conjure it. It all begins in 96 hours. Till then there is a lull a cessation of all activities and the quiet is scary as you are compelled to look at the road that brought you to this fateful day. Did you make any mistakes, play any delaying tactics borne out of your own fears, procrastinated for far too long. In hindsight if I were to be honest and candid, there were signs that one could have seen. But one was so desperately trying to find anything but the C word, one got lost along the way, and the three Fates - Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos - were not one my side as they spindled a series of results that did not show the cells gone berserk. And so in spite of the reality staring at us as the blood counts refused to climb and the weight went into a downward spiral, we kept clutching at straws. And so it went. Prayers and rituals, visits to the temples with pledges taken, everything one could imagine.
Today as I sit next to the man I have loved for more than two thirds of my life, I wonder if I somewhere let him down because of my own fears. But I cannot change what has gone. I can only make sure that the ordeal that awaits him is alleviated by choosing the most humane conditions for hid treatment, tempered with as much love as I can give, and palliated by every thing I can find. I hope I will have the strength to do it.
The decision has been taken, barring a miracle I know will not happen. Even the Gods cannot conjure it. It all begins in 96 hours. Till then there is a lull a cessation of all activities and the quiet is scary as you are compelled to look at the road that brought you to this fateful day. Did you make any mistakes, play any delaying tactics borne out of your own fears, procrastinated for far too long. In hindsight if I were to be honest and candid, there were signs that one could have seen. But one was so desperately trying to find anything but the C word, one got lost along the way, and the three Fates - Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos - were not one my side as they spindled a series of results that did not show the cells gone berserk. And so in spite of the reality staring at us as the blood counts refused to climb and the weight went into a downward spiral, we kept clutching at straws. And so it went. Prayers and rituals, visits to the temples with pledges taken, everything one could imagine.
Today as I sit next to the man I have loved for more than two thirds of my life, I wonder if I somewhere let him down because of my own fears. But I cannot change what has gone. I can only make sure that the ordeal that awaits him is alleviated by choosing the most humane conditions for hid treatment, tempered with as much love as I can give, and palliated by every thing I can find. I hope I will have the strength to do it.
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